Footsteps in the night
by ThePossession
Summary: AU. Ginny never finished her sixth year at Hogwarts. When it became too dangerous, her parents hid her at Grimmauld Place, where she would be alone with Sirius. Little did they know she'd always secretely loved him. - Contains sexual themes and profanity. Ginny will be 17 most of the time, Sirius will be around 37, so you're warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Please note that English is not my mother tongue. Thank you.**

Ginny was lying in her bed, her eyes closed, focused on the strange noises slipping underneath her door. Creaking stairs, tiny padding feet, the wind blowing against the windows… Breathlessly she listened to them, hoping to hear that one sound, that one sound that could calm her down and warm her, could make her fall asleep.

Footsteps.

Although he was being silent, she could pick it up, the monotone thuds of him walking down the stairs, into the kitchen. She let out a sigh she hadn't been aware of holding, before drawing the blankets closer around her, imaging how he opened one of the cabinets and took out a bottle of firewhisky. She didn't know why the fact that he was there, only a few metres away from her, the fact that he was awake, like her, could comfort her. Perhaps it reminded her that she wasn't the only one in this situation. That she wasn't alone.

Ginny used to think that Sirius was a mass murderer, a frightening, skeleton-like figure on a picture in the newspaper, someone who's name made her shiver whenever it was dropped. That was why meeting him the first time had been so strange. He'd never killed anybody. He was Harry's godfather. He was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And he didn't resemble the nightmare on the photographs anymore. Ginny had been fourteen when she had shaken his hand to introduce herself, slightly trembling. Her brother, Ron, had been delighted to see this unjustly convicted man again, asking all about a hippogriff called Buckbeak. Watching them interact, and observing Sirius carefully, she had decided he really wasn't the criminal the ministry had let her to believe he was. However, she had remained vigilant. Looks could be deceiving. Undoubtedly, he was the most handsome man she had ever laid her brown eyes upon. He was tall, well-built, with lustrous dark hair that just about reached his shoulders, and mesmerizing grey orbs. They showed nothing, not emptiness, not sadness, nothing. The striking grey colour seemed to match his past. With an air of casual elegance, Sirius strode through the house he hated with all his heart, the house he had hoped to never have to return to. It must have been tormenting to be trapped there, unable to go outside, unable to get some fresh air. Sometimes Ginny wondered how much worse it would be for him if he got shipped off to Azkaban again, instead of having to stay here, all alone, surrounded in memories of his painful history. In that vacation she had gotten used to him, slowly, and after a while she had concluded that she liked him. He was a kind, energetic person, craving for some adventure, some action. Ginny could relate to that. Not that she had dared to tell him, no, she was too shy when he was around, flustering red, stammering and dropping objects as if they had suddenly caught fire. His presence put her nerves on edge. Her family assumed she'd still been scared of him, nevertheless Ginny knew it was something else. Occasionally, she found herself staring at him, noticing the littlest transformations. The colour that had returned to his cheeks, making him appear younger, when he had shaved and his skin was fair and soft, and, infrequently, the twinkle that appeared in his eyes when he talked to Harry, that had her wish she could make it show up too. Sirius was enthralling. He must have been even more beautiful before he had been sent to Azkaban. Less wrinkles, tanned, more muscular…

By the time they all had to go back to school again, Sirius' mood had darkened: he'd locked himself away in his room, didn't laugh anymore, didn't attend breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. He'd smelled of alcohol and had taken every opportunity to complain or mock. Especially Kreacher, the ugliest house-elf of all age, had been treated like he was no better than a Death-Eater.

Ginny had wanted to comfort him, but she hadn't had a clue how to.

When she had left for Hogwarts, she hadn't said goodbye. She did pat the large, goofy dog on his back, though. It had been odd to touch him, even while he was in animal form. The moment was stamped into her memory.

It was a few months later that she had seen him again, at Christmas, and the same cycle followed. In the beginning he had been joyful, at the end he was depressed and moping again.

Then there was the day he had almost died, he had almost fallen through the veil, if somehow Ginny hadn't foreseen it and saved him. She didn't understand how she managed, she only knew she didn't want him to die. Her wand had done the rest. Nobody had noticed it was her who had prevented him from getting killed, but she hadn't mind. She was too blissful with the fact that he was still alive.

The next summer she'd been less shy around him and she found he enjoyed her company, telling her stories about him as a teenager, or forging plans to not have to clean the house even though Molly wanted them to. They could chat for hours, just the two of them, and Ginny grew extremely fond of the man.

One morning he had woken her up at the creek of dawn, trying to seduce her into flying away on Buckbeak, an insanely risky plan. He had smelled of whisky. It wasn't hard to conclude that he had been drinking, like always when September came near and he would be alone again. She had denied his offer, of course. He had gotten mad, then silent, then had broken into angry, heated tears. Fifteen-year-old Ginny had wrapped her arms around him, comforting him, letting him cry until he had been silent. He had been so close to her that her body tingled. It had confused her, for she was not even a woman yet, and he was miserable and old, somewhere around thirty-five. She shook away the feeling, staying that way until they were called to breakfast.

They'd never spoken of it again.

That time, he had hugged her tightly before she left for Hogwarts. She had promised to write him. She kept it. She sent him letters about the ordinary things that had happened to her, knowing they wouldn't be ordinary to Sirius, and he wrote her back about things that had occurred when he was younger. The memories got more serious over time, and Ginny wondered if she was the only one he could speak with. She felt proud. When they saw each other at Christmas, she was the second person he greeted, after Harry. His eyes had twinkled as she had kissed him on both cheeks. For once, she had the feeling everything would eventually turn out right. While they celebrated Christmas and prepared for the upcoming war, the two of them would sneak off and tell each other stories till deep in the night. Hermione had questioned her about it. She had shrugged it off. "He's just such a lonely man, Hermione. It's pitiful." She didn't dare to tell her about a dream she had had, a dream wherein she had been kissing Harry, who had suddenly turned into Sirius. It had upset her. She didn't really like him that way, did she? But as she returned to school, she found herself having these dreams more regularly. Only being Harry's girlfriend after such a long time of craving for him, tamed her inappropriate fantasies about Sirius down. She'd spent less and less time reminiscing her conversations with the man, and later on, she even wrote him less letters.

It was wrong.

She'd tried to convince herself of that.

It worked for a while.

Until Harry had broken up with her and she had to spend the summer not touching him and acting if everything was okay. Worst thing was, that she couldn't see Sirius. It would be too dangerous for him to come to the Nest, with the wedding preparations and all… She had never longed for him this bad before.

And now she was here, and he was drinking alcohol in the kitchen. She had never finished her sixth year at Hogwarts. Her parents ought it to be too dangerous. They had put her away, safe and alone with Sirius. She had been secretly excited, now that she was seventeen, considered a woman by most people. Who knew what would happen, them alone, with the connection they had… To be honest, she was disappointed. Physically, he was in good shape, clean, muscular, well-fed. Mentally, he was a wreck. He hadn't really talked to her, he merely read books or worked out and she would watch him, say something to him and he would grumble something back, before going silent again. Perhaps, he couldn't socialize anymore after being alone that long. She didn't blame him.

Sirius' footsteps climbed up the stairs again, carefully. When they were near her, she grabbed onto the sheets, hoping he would come into her room… If only he could give her a smile… It was horrible to see him so unhappy…

Ginny sighed dissatisfied as the footsteps went further away from her. A door was slammed shut.

Oh, how she desired the twinkle to reappear in those striking, grey eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

She knocked on his door. "Sirius?"

No answer.

"Sirius?"

Nothing.

"Oh for god's sake, you fucking idiot, I'm coming in, if-…" Ginny had entered the room dramatically. Baffled, she stood still on the doorstep, taking in the sight before her. He only wore pants, and she stared at his toned chest, tracing the many tattoos that definitely all had some hidden meaning… She flustered, unable to jerk her eyes away from him. God, he was too sexy. She was going to die…

He gazed back at her, as if paralyzed, his hands still at the band of his trousers. Those eyes… Ginny wanted to run to him, kiss him, devour him… Why the hell did she open the door?

"Sirius," she repeated, a bit more breathless than she had intended.

"Ginny," he said softly, voice rough of not using it often. Her heart skipped a beat. "I was dressing myself, as you've obviously noticed."

"Yes, I've noticed," she smiled, taking a step closer to him. "Can I help you?" She hoped her flirtatious joke would inflict a grin, even a small one, but it didn't work. He remained silent.

"Is that a yes?" she continued, nearing him slowly. She cocked an eyebrow. Still no reply. What could she do? How could she cheer him up? He hadn't had company in months, was probably enormously frustrated that he couldn't help the Order, that he hadn't heard from his godson and that he was trapped here, that he was being useless. They both were. Ginny didn't say that out loud. Sirius wasn't the one to talk about 'feelings', and certainly not now, not at this moment. She scanned his tattoo's, hoping to find a topic to discuss. "You know, I've always wondered about your tattoo's. What they mean…" She was aware that if she wanted him to speak, she had to keep the mood light-hearted.

"Ginny," he whispered, agitatedly running a hand through his hair. "It's not like that anymore. You're not a naïve, little girl anymore and I can no longer pretend." If he'd said it a bit merrier, she would have thought he was on the brink of expressing his eternal love for her. She furrowed her brows. "We're at war, Ginny, and it'll never be all right," he continued harshly. "Harry is out there somewhere, doing his best not to die, and You-Know-Who is getting stronger every second of the day. We're hiding here, like cowards, without a point, because when he wins, I'll be killed, and you… who knows what they'll do to you."

She couldn't grasp it. Had he given up? The ever faithful, energetic Sirius Black had given up? On the good side? On the Order? On Harry? Anger boiled in her stomach, creeping into every piece of her delicate body. She flipped her loose, long, flaming red locks, spatting: "I don't know if they'd kill you, Black. After all, you're a pure blood." Not even the slightest reaction. "And me too, of course. Maybe they'd force me to marry, so I can give birth to pure blood children." He cringed at that. Had she hit something? Had she spoken of something that appalled him? Was there life underneath the surface? "It sickens me that you've given up on Harry. He's going to make it. You-Know-Who will be beaten. And then, we'll come out of our shelter and we'll help rebuild this world."

He growled, dog-like. Then he turned around, but Ginny wasn't going to let him. Heated, she grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. She was close to him now, too close, freckled nose inches away from his. She glared at him, as threatening as she could. People would often tell her how terrifying she was when she was furious. She hoped he shared that opinion, the stupid bastard. She loved him, though she couldn't believe his attitude. "We're stuck here," she acknowledged. "I don't like that either, but it's not as if we can change anything about it. Now, we could have a nice couple of weeks in each others company, 'till this whole fight is over, or we could sulk and pout like we're two toddlers whose candy got stolen."

"There is no 'nice'."

"That's why we have to make it as nice as possible," she snapped, abruptly marching towards the door, opening it. She gave him one last look. "And I know you and I could have it 'nice', Sirius."

With that, she disappeared to the hallway, still not understanding that he could have given up.

Given up.

She froze.

If he'd really given up, why hadn't he killed himself yet?

He wasn't a coward, Ginny.

Or so she'd always thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny was staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, unable to sleep. It must have been around three o'clock in the morning, since there wasn't even a streak of light squeezing itself through the gap between the curtains. Everything was quiet, except for the usual creaking of the old wood in the house and the pattering of teeny paws.

Horrible.

How could he think like that? How could he be that pessimistic? She was still mad, even thought about slapping him in the face. A true Gryffindor would have never behaved the way he did, wouldn't he?

Horrible.

Muttering some swearwords, she turned around in her bed, attempting to find a comfortable position. She failed. Frustrated, she bumped her head into her pillow. How did she end up here? Why wasn't she still at Hogwarts, running Dumbledore's Army with Neville? Protecting the students who took shelter in the Room of Requirements? Being of meaning… Instead of those things, she was stuck with the man she loved, but who wasn't like the man she remembered. That Sirius would have never given up on Harry. Or would he?

Her pondering was interrupted by loud, banging footsteps, staggering down the stairs, in her direction. She sat up in her bed, a tad scared, digging her nails in the mattress. Her breath quickened, the person neared her room, and before she could register it, the door was thrown open. The tip of his wand was glowing, bathing Ginny in the mysterious, blue glim. Protecting herself from it, she put her hand above her eyes. She couldn't see him very well, he was only a shadowy form. What was he doing here? Had he finally regained some sense? She waited for him to speak. It didn't take long.

"How do you keep faith? How can you be convinced we'll win?"

Ginny relaxed. It seemed as if her words had had impact. Perhaps she got through to his stubborn views. "How can you not? Don't you think our side won't stop fighting until all of You-Know-Who's followers are either dead or imprisoned? Don't you think Harry won't stop trying to kill You-Know-Who until he has?"

He didn't answer.

Ginny climbed out of bed and walked towards him, lightly pushing his wand down so that he would lower it. Now she could see him. He was a mess. His hair tangled and full of knots, blood red eyes, torn and scruffy clothing hanging around his body… His hands shook, and she wondered if maybe his drinking had advanced to a drinking problem. The anger that she had felt towards him sunk to her toes, vanished into thin air. She pitied him.

"Sirius… I understand that it seems hopeless, with Dumbledore dead, and Moody too, and that the ministry's under You-Know-Who's control…" she gave in, "but we don't see what's happening on our side. And that's a good thing. It means we're able to set up plans in secrecy. Just that the two of us haven't got a clue what Remus and my parents and Tonks and everyone else is doing, doesn't mean we're losing. In the contrary: we're winning. The fact that we didn't hear a single word about them, tells us that we're making good progress."

He snorted. "We…" were the only two letters escaping his lips. He gazed in her direction, distant look in his grey eyes, like he wasn't really present. Shaking his head, he turned away from her, leaving her, blending in with the dark.

We… He felt useless. She'd already predicted that, now he'd confirmed it. A man as energetic and brave as Sirius shouldn't be locked away, especially not on his own. He'd rather go outside, risk to get murdered or captured, then staying here, day in day out, unable to act upon the battle outside, unable to help and shield his friends, his loved ones… If Harry hadn't let him promise to be careful, to not exit the house, Sirius would've been killed a few months earlier.

Realizing that, Ginny shivered, stepping back towards the warmth of her bed.

She prayed he wouldn't do something rash.

It would be the last mission he'd ever executed.


	4. Chapter 4

After that, she didn't see him for five days straight. If she hadn't heard him walking around at night, she would've panicked, thinking he'd put an end to his life. Ginny felt more alone than ever. She read books, learned for school -although she didn't have to-, cooked, listened to the radio, tried to play Quidditch in the kitchen, by herself… Fuck, she even cleaned the living room! Her mother would have been proud.

On and on she wondered what Sirius was doing, if he was preparing some reckless action. Did her words have any positive impact on him? Or had he changed his mind about her not being a naïve, little girl anymore? Was that what she was? What she'd been to him all this time? He'd once told her about his first real love, about his vision for the future when he'd been eighteen… Why would he have trusted those memories to her, if she had been naïve and little? Those questions taunted her. She didn't sleep much, pondering about Sirius or Harry, her parents and all of her brothers. Were they unharmed? Did they still have hope?

On the sixth day, Ginny was in doubt. Maybe she'd been too hard on him. It must've been difficult to keep up the good faith when you're all by yourself and news is scarce. Just when she'd decided to search for him, he appeared in the kitchen.

He looked at her.

She looked back.

He had showered, shaved and put on different clothes. His dark hair was damp and voluminous, enlarging his attractiveness. He wore a dark green shirt and matching jacket, above the jeans the twins had bought him this summer. She had to admit, they suited him very well. Better than she'd imagined. Nonetheless, this 'makeover' couldn't draw the attention away from the circles underneath his slightly red eyes… Had he cried? Or were they caused by the lack of sleep?

Silence had fallen upon them.

Should she talk first? What should she say? Or should she keep quiet?

Sirius scratched his head.

She was relieved when he opened his mouth.

"What if we win?" he asked her.

The question got her by surprise. "What?" She hadn't expected this. It was difficult to register what he meant.

"If we win… and clear my name…" he began and she saw him clenching his fists, trying to put words to his agony. "What would my life be like?"

She blinked. Was this what he was worrying about?

"Don't get me wrong, Ginny, I want to help, want to rebuild this world, I want Harry to be able to rely on me, but…" he stopped for a second, to let a sarcastic grin in on his handsome face, "Harry won't need me. Fuck, he's chasing You-Know-Who right know! I need him more than he needs me. No one needs me. I'd just be a burden."

She wanted to say it. She wanted to say the words.

I need you.

She would've, hadn't she been so caught off guard by him showing his true feelings. Him exposing himself. A vulnerable Sirius. That didn't happen often.

"Remus is married to Tonks. Ron will marry Hermione, if he turns out to be at least a bit intelligent and you…" he averted his gaze to the cracked tiles on the floor, "you, Gin," her heart leapt at hearing that abbreviation rolling from his lips once more, "you'll marry Harry and have a couple of children. I'd just be a burden. Even if they clear me, I won't get hired anywhere. They won't trust me. And I've got an employment gap from about fifteen years, remember?" He made a lost impression, like a toddler abandoned by his mother.

Ginny smiled.

He was visibly confused by her reaction. She couldn't blame him. He'd shared his deepest feelings with her, and she only smiled. She couldn't help it. If this were his concerns, it wouldn't be that hard to make him happy again. He had no idea what he meant to her, to Harry, to Remus, to a lot of people. Stupid Sirius Black. She had to tell him, she had to let him see how much he would be missed, would he die.

In one second, she ran towards him, red hair dancing behind her. Longingly, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, to press a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. Her lips burned with desire as she withdrew, trying hard to not stop breathing. She gazed into his normally empty eyes, which were currently flooded with surprise, and chuckled.

"You're such an idiot," she stated, before letting her head rest on his chest, ignoring the urge to kiss him again. She inhaled his scent: fresh and soapy, with a hint of sweat. Way better than the scent of firewisky… Oh, how she had missed him…

The biggest shock had worn away and now he hugged her back, fiercely, strong hands on her petite body… A kiss on the top of her head… All she had longed for the past few weeks… So close… Ginny went up on her tiptoes, so she could whisper in his ear: "But it doesn't sound as if you've given up…"

He grumbled something, tightening his grip around her even more. It must have been a long, long time ago since he had touched another human being… She didn't mind, she could've held him forever, even if You-Know-Who would've suddenly flown into this kitchen, raising his wand at them. Sirius and she just fit so perfectly, her small frame against his manly, sturdy one, her feminine hands so tiny compared to his… He was incredibly different from Harry, who wasn't that much taller than her and more… boyish… and more insecure... She'd always treasured Sirius' confidence, although sometimes he could be a bit arrogant. Not that she couldn't handle that.

Reluctantly, Ginny backed of a bit, in order to be able to study his face, which held a small grin. Much better… This was her chance to pin it there, for the rest of his life. She didn't want to have to deal with a depressed version of him ever again. "You're a survivor, Sirius. You'll find your way, eventually. And even if everyone's married and having babies, they'll always have time for you," she decided to say, hoping he would accept it instead of retreating himself to his room. "I'll always have time for you." A short, intense silence. She broke it with a giggle, biting her lip because of what she was about to suggest. "Who knows, you might find a lovely lady yourself, if you keep working out like that." Me. Me. Me. Someone shrieked in her mind, almost commanding her to raise her finger. No, Ginny, no. She loved him, nonetheless, it would be impossible for them to be a couple, let alone marry… An image of a screaming Molly and a traumatized Harry crossed her thoughts. She pushed it away and the pleasant memory of walking in on Sirius getting dressed took its place. "'Cause I have to admit, Black, you were incredibly delicious without your shirt. A real treat."

He produced one of his bark-like laughs, the twinkle shining in his grey orbs, and Ginny melted. Miniature birds flew around in her stomach, tickling her insides, reminding her how much she was in love with the man in front of her. "Do I need to get worried, Gin? For a second there I thought you wanted to eat me."

She raised an eyebrow, holding back her laughter. "Who knows? I might get hungry one night… Sneak into your bedroom…"

For a moment, he watched her, incredulously. Probably deciding it wasn't something to create a fuss about, he let it go and smirked. "I'll remind to lock it," he played along. "Now, let's get us something real to eat. I'm starving." His way of making clear that the topic 'feelings' had closed. He had already begun to walk to the cupboards when he felt her hand on his arm, stopping him. Grinning contentedly, Ginny went on the tip of her toes, again, to peck him on his cheek, again. She didn't wait for a response, just kind of skipping towards the counter, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"What did I do to deserve that?"

"You quit being a stubborn ass and let me in," she replied. She could have sworn she heard him mumble something that seemed to resemble 'a stubborn ass herself'.

A grin crept up on her.

Oh, how could she ever have dreaded not being at Hogwarts?


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny felt content. For the first time in months, she didn't worry about the war, or Harry, or her family and friends. She was truly and fully happy. The little birds in her stomach kept on tickling her with their feathered wings, for the rest of the evening. An entertaining evening, wherein she cooked dinner and Sirius tried to help her -and failed miserably-. They chatted about minor items, carefully, though not entirely consciously, avoiding the conversation to end up at You-Know-Who, or Harry, or the feelings Sirius had spilled a few minutes ago. He acted if it had never happened, similarly to when he had broken down in her room, drunk, almost two years ago. Had it really been only two years? Two fucking years? Perhaps some idiot wizard had messed with the calendars, or something went wrong with time as a result of Ginny and her friends destroying the cabinet with Time-Turners. Or there simply had been going on so much, that it seemed like more days were needed to be able for all these occasions to actually have happened. Either way, Ginny had grown up in the last two years. Possibly, others hadn't noticed: they had been too busy fighting against the dark side. Possibly, they hadn't noticed how she was interested in politics, in discussions, in history, philosophy, how she had formed her own opinions… Possibly, they hadn't noticed the way her body had taken a more feminine shape, curvy, wider hips, fuller -although still small- breasts, and her being aware of how beautiful she was, and more importantly: how she could use that on teenage boys who were bubbling with hormones. Possibly, they hadn't noticed that she wasn't afraid of the dark anymore, of drifting off to sleep, her worst fears after Tom Riddle had used her in the first grade. Ginny didn't know for sure, but what she was certain about, was that all the blackness and danger of the past couple of months had somewhat turned her into a woman. Perhaps, she had once been a naive, little girl, as Sirius had said to her. However, now, she was a woman. A seventeen-year-old woman. And she realised, while laughing out loud when Sirius turned into his Animagus form and started licking the dirty dishes with a slimy pink tongue, that the rest of her life would soon start, in a world of terror and violence, or in a world of renewed bonds and recovery. She had to find out what she wanted to do with it. And, she added, almost dying from joy since Sniffles had accidentally broken a very expensive plate, who she wanted to be in it.

The last question she could already answer partially: Sirius Black.

Preferably in human state, though.

As he barked and ran around the kitchen table, throwing vases and furniture on the floor with his wagging tail, she allowed herself to really, deliberately picture herself with him. Not just the sexual fantasies, those were familiar to her, no, she saw him and her buying a scenic, old farm, somewhere on the country site, far away from the city… Or… no… an apartment in London, or Amsterdam, or Berlin, so that they were always surrounded by people, so that he would never have to feel trapped and alone again… She imagined them waking up together, ordinary life, saying their goodbyes as they went off to their jobs. Eating dinner, reviewing their day, afterwards lying on the couch together, reading books, in peace. She even dared to move on to harsher territory, meaning: a wedding. Crushing Harry's, Ron's and her mother's hearts. It would be worth it. Children, cheeky, brave redheads with grey eyes… It would be totally worth it.

Would it?

Was it even possible?

"You want some too?"

Abruptly, Ginny returned to reality, taking in the sight of a rather good-spirited Sirius. He held up a bottle of firewhisky, his lips drawn in a quite daring smile. A bold wink, and she found herself flushing, something that hadn't happened in forever.

"I won't tell Molly," he added, as if that would be the reason for her to refuse.

"Of course you wouldn't, you idiot," she restored herself, snatching the brown liquid from his hand. "She'd kill you if you did."

He nodded. "Well, then you can be sure she won't ever hear about it."

Ginny smiled. Shaking her head, she got two glasses from the cupboard to fill them, mentally noting that she shouldn't have too much – and he shouldn't have much more. He'd already poured down a lot of Muggle wodka. She wasn't an expert on this territory, but she guessed that that wasn't healthy for a person, even if said person was a wizard. It hadn't been bugging her before, however, now, when she had sat down at the carpet situated in front of the fireplace, cautiously nipping her drink, she realized how strongly it affected her and how it didn't seem to do anything to him.

After a while of peaceful banter, and listening to Sirius talking about the time he'd been determined to learn how to play guitar, she decided to confront him about it. She felt more courageous than ever. Her body was flooded with heat, and she wondered if he could feel her skin burn. Although she wanted to ask him that, she still had enough control to judge that this wasn't the right moment to confess her undying love for him, never mind how much she desired to touch his tattoo's and fuck him – not necessarily in that order, and at the same time would be okay too. A bit wobbly, she got up from the ground, denying the fact that she couldn't handle alcohol at all. She was fine, perfectly fine, aside from the fact that she suddenly seemed to lose her balance and stumbled forwards, right into him, her nose crashing into his chest. Giggling slightly, she tried to return to her feet, when his gaze unintentionally caught hers. Hadn't she been tipsy, she would've gasped for air. But she was tipsy, so she just smiled, drowning in his grey, twinkling orbs. They were very close. She should create some distance, some space. Instead of that, she let her eyes flicker to his mouth, for a split second. Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, her brain instructed. No, Ginny, no, no, no. She really shouldn't, she couldn't think straight. Deep down she was aware that this wasn't the moment. Focus on your mission, Ginny, she thought.

"You drink too much," she blurted out unexpectedly.

"You're the pissed one here," he replied, smirking. He had grabbed her arms, in an attempt to steady her. Annoyed that he had waved off her statement, she freed herself from his grip, attempting to throw him a firm look.

"Sirius, I'm serious," she said, holding back a giggle – it sounded too damn funny. "You've been downing the one drink to the other… I mean… You should cut back the drinking. It's not healthy."

He snickered. "This would've been more effective if you weren't at the brink of passing out, Gin."

A wave of laughter overcame her and before she could do anything about it, she was on the floor, body shaking. Her sight was slightly blurred, but somehow, it didn't alarm her. Everything felt good, everything was terribly fine. She tried to calm down a bit. "I have a proposal," she then said, switching to a sitting position and clumsily pushing her red locks out of her face.

"A proposal?" he repeated, looking down at her amused.

"Yes. A proposal."

"Do enlighten me."

A giggle escaped her lips at detecting the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Every time you drink, I'll drink too. So you'll have to cut back on the drinking or you'll be the person responsible for all my terrible hangovers."

He stared at her incredulously, then broke out into a barking laugh. He shook his head, offering her a hand. She took it, somewhat surprised. "Proposal accepted," he said. "Now get off that cold floor, before you freeze to death." Still quite baffled, she let him haul her up and pull her to his side, so she could sit next to his warm body on the comfortable chair. Her mind was working even less good now she was so close to him. Some seconds had to pass before she realized what a fortunate situation this was – too fortunate to be true. Something wasn't quite right here.

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Why do I have the feeling you're tricking me?"

A slow smirk took its place on his handsome face and he seemed to be leaning into her. "Because you know me too well, Gin."

Somehow that calmed her. With a deep, content sigh, she lowered her head onto his chest and closed her eyes, feeling quite drowsy all of the sudden. "I'm afraid that might be true."

"I'll drink to that."

"No you won't..." But she had already fallen asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

"I swear to you, Black, if you ever put me through this again, I'll hate you forever." It wasn't the first threat she had thrown in his direction that morning, and it wasn't going to be the last. Both of them knew she didn't really mean it, even though she had been puking for the larger part of that day and was now lying white faced in her bed. Although she felt like somebody had dragged her twenty meters through the sewers, she couldn't help but be quite pleased with the way he was handling it. Taking care of her seemed to make him feel useful. He had held up her hair while she'd emptied her stomach, he had made her drink water and baked her some eggs, he had propped up the pillows under her head and helped her brush her teeth. All the while, he'd been oddly cheerful, as if he hadn't had such a good time in months. On the one hand, Ginny never wanted to be hung-over again, but on the other, seeing Sirius this way was strangely comforting. She mentally noted to remember to play helpless every now and then. She wasn't very fond of that strategy, nonetheless, if it heightened his spirits she would do it without hesitance.

At the moment, he was sitting lazily in a chair by her bed, his lips quirked up in a small smile. "I should've made you drink more. You're tougher than you look."

"More?" she echoed, almost getting up just so she could strangle him. "Even more than this? What, you want me dead?"

He chuckled. "No. I'd hoped you would've forgotten about your proposal."

"Well, I haven't." She sent him one of her best threatening glares. "You better keep true to your word, Black."

His smile faded and he stared at her, seemingly lost in thought. Then he said, softly: "I used to hate it when you called me that."

Of course. Black. The name of his cursed family, the one thing that bound him to his wicked mother and brother and father, and the rest of that menacing folk. She should've known. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I was going to. But by that time I realized I'd grown to like it."

That confession sent shivers down her spine, and before she could help herself she whispered: "Lay down with me." The surprise was evident on his face, and she added: "I'm cold." Even though it wasn't a good reason, or the real reason for that matter, he didn't protest. Quietly, he took off his jacket and shoes and slid under the covers, gently pushing her red locks out of the way so he could lay his head next to hers on the pillow. For a moment, she took the opportunity to look into his eyes. They were unfamiliarly soft, and the little birds in her stomach rejoiced in seeing it. Then, she sighed contently, snuggled up close to him, and fell asleep.

When she woke, she felt ten times better than before. He however, was trembling, his face ashen grey, beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead. He was burning up. This could only mean one thing. He was detoxing. And so, the roles were swapped, and Ginny was the one taking care of him. She didn't mind, only hated to see him this fragile, this weak, but she knew it was a necessary process. Consequently, the next two weeks were an ordeal, with him being alternately grumpy or very ill, and her having to restrain her temper all the time. She had hidden all the bottles of firewhisky and butterbeer in the house, instructing her parents not to buy more the next time they were coming to restock the pantry. He hadn't liked it. A lot of yelling and stamping was done, but in the end, it had been worth it.

In the end, he had joined her on the chair by the fireplace, a glass of water in his hand, and had said, without any shame: "Thank you, Gin."

She had merely smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, I'll confess I didn't think I would ever finish this fanfic, but I was kind of having a writers-block for the novel I'm writing, so I figured I should take a break and write something else. I stumbled upon this fanfic and I realized I really loved it and wanted to try and finish it. I really love the pairing and it's a shame there aren't that many fics about them. When I started this, I had the idea to make it really long, but now I just want to keep it simple and finish it up as quickly as I can (but not too quickly, of course). Hope you enjoy! (Also, I realise my timeline doesn't completely add up, but I'm sticking with it anyway).**

Winter came, but in Ginny's eyes life at 12 Grimmauld Place only became better with the second. Sirius had less and less grumpy episodes and scarcely left her company to be alone anymore. He was his usual cheerful self, joking and laughing and occasionally even singing, and to her slight embarrassment, she realised she was thankful of being there with him, even though the reason of them hiding together was downright awful. As there wasn't much to do besides chatting and listening to _Potterwatch_ broadcasts, they decided to renovate the house, starting with the hallway. Together, they somehow managed to get rid of the portrait of Sirius' mother, and room by room, Grimmauld Place started to feel less vile and more welcoming. It was hard labour, even with the use of spells, since they both had to learn lots of new ones before they could even begin, but it was satisfying and gave them a purpose. Every day, Ginny fell deeper in love with him, and every day, she forgot more and more about the existence of an outside world. Sure, they had fights, energetic, exploding fights, but that was to be expected when two people were confined to such a small space for such a long time. It never took them long to realise how stupid the conflict had been, and while they were usually very proud of character, here they did not seem to have any trouble with apologies because it was just the two of them. At night, alone in her bed, she fantasised about confessing her feelings to him, which always ended in passionate love-making and Ginny being unable to sleep, hot and bothered as she would be. In the mornings, she was confronted with reality again: the chance he felt the same was close to nothing, and these declarations would undoubtedly lead to uncomfortable silences and fruitless attempts to avoid each other. Since there weren't any signs that the war would be ending soon, that didn't seem like a very pleasing situation. So she kept her mouth zipped and her heart locked, and tried to enjoy the prospering friendship they shared.

One evening, she had been painting the walls of the second floor parlour, something she found out she loved to do without the help of magic. Somehow, it pleased her to smear the bright colours on the carefully polished surfaces, as if she was doing something that really mattered. Usually, she would hum to the tunes the radio was playing, and she would paint until her back ached and her hand was cramped. This time, one of her favourite songs came on, and with a swish of her wand she turned the volume up, letting the music fill up the room. Before long, she was dancing, moving her hips, shaking her ass, entirely losing herself to the rhythm. She even managed to successfully drown out the little squeaky voice in her head that said she shouldn't allow herself to be so blissfully content, considering the dire situation in the Wizarding World. She felt sexy, and good, and more like herself than anywhere in the past six months.

She only noticed him standing there when the song was over and she had turned down the volume again. He was leaning against the doorpost, muscular arms crossed, watching her intently. A fire blazed in his eyes, a sight she had never seen before, and the grey colour had darkened to a shade that did his surname justice. His gaze caught hers, and her breath hitched in her throat. Surely, that look he was giving her could not be misinterpreted.

He wanted her.

Trying to be bold, she walked towards him, only stopping when she was right in front of him, so close she was sure he had to feel the heat radiating from her body. A seductive smile, and she looked up at him from under her lashes. "Do I need to get worried here, Sirius? You look at me as if you want to eat me."

Silence. She was just contemplating what her next move should be, when he suddenly surged forwards, grabbing her by her waist. She gasped, then collided with the wall, and he pinned her there, arms above her head. Her heartbeat sped up as he leaned in her direction, grey orbs way too close to her to be able to think. His cheek, covered in stubble, scratched hers, sending shivers down her spine, and he said, in a low, rough voice she didn't recognize: "Don't tempt me."

"It's alright," she said, quite breathlessly. "You can take a little bite."

A harsh shake of his head, as if he needed to convince himself of something. His hands still clutched hers, squeezing quite hard at the moment, but neither of them seemed to notice. "Fuck," he cursed, and it was probably aimed at himself, because the following second his lips crashed unto hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss that made her legs quiver and weaken. Oh god… She must have been strayed into one of her fantasies, it couldn't be something else, this was too perfect to be true. Involuntarily, she closed her eyes, completely losing herself in the feeling of finally having him, after all those damn years of wanting him. And merlin's beard, did this man know what he was doing. It was heaven compared to all those fumbling, little boys who had been so eager that it actually seemed like they were really eating her. No, Sirius Black knew how to kiss a girl. She was caught by surprise when he playfully bit her lip, and she moaned –

Suddenly, he stopped, staring at her swollen lips with a frown. "No…" he muttered agitatedly. "No…"

"Yes," she said, although it sounded more like a whisper. "Yes, Sirius. Please, I want to… I want to so bad."

He exhaled, let go of her hands, shook his head. "No, you don't. It isn't real, Gin. It's only because we're trapped together."

His words carved a wound in her chest, and she found herself feeling like she was choking on something that was stuck in her throat. "It is real to me," she answered, bringing her hand up to his face with the intention of tucking a loose strand of those dark, lustrous locks behind his ear, but her courage left her and she dropped it. One last, intense look and she marched away – she had to, she couldn't stay there and risk spilling all of her feelings and getting rejected. Tears flooded her eyes as she hurried down the stairs, fleeing to the solitude of her bedroom. She didn't cry a lot, never had. Consequence of growing up with six brothers, undoubtedly. But right now, she couldn't help it. _It isn't real, Gin_. Of course, she should have known. He did want her, but only because he was a lonely man and she was the only female being he had been in contact with in over half a year – well, except for her mother, but her mother didn't count. Had there been other women in his life, this kiss would have never happened. That thought was so painful that she cried herself to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days, they did their utmost best to avoid each other. Ginny tried to stay strong, tried to not constantly burst into tears, but the thought that she had irrevocably ruined the most treasured bond in her life made that rather difficult. How fucking stupid she was… He probably saw her as a little girl with a flimsy little crush. Had he even really wanted her? Or had it been all in her mind, had she detected signs that weren't there? He was a grown man. What could he possibly get from the inexperienced, young teenager she was? _It isn't real_. To him, it had been a fantasy. To him, it had only been the craving of a woman's touch that drove him to these actions, but he had realised it was a girl he had been holding. But she could learn, she could become better, if he'd just give her a chance… She could show him the woman she had turned into. She should at least try. There wasn't any going back anyway. After this, they could only move forward, or drift apart. She had to try.

It was late at night when she heard it. Footsteps. He was descending the stairs, perhaps to make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen, something he had grown accustomed to doing after recovering from the detoxing. Swiftly, she leapt up from her bed, trying to straighten her red hair with her hands while hurrying to the corridor, so eagerly that she almost bumped straight into him. For a moment, both were surprised and brown eyes locked with grey ones, but then the air filled with tension again, and he took a step back, as if her closeness bothered him. Ginny wished he wouldn't have done that, as it made it ten times more difficult for her to be assertive, like she promised herself she would be. All or nothing, Gin, all or nothing.

He averted his gaze to the floor, then opened his mouth, closed it again, and looked back up to her. "I need to apologise," he said, quite formally, a serious frown on his face. "I should've never… I should've never kissed you. I'm sorry."

No. No, Sirius, please don't say things like that. It hurt. She mustered up her courage, gazed up to him from under her lashes, and said: "Well, I'm not. Sorry. I'm not sorry." Immediately, she was pleased with herself – this was how she had wanted it to go. Confess it. Say it. Go all the way. He seemed confused, watching her intently. She interpreted it as a good sign and bravely, she took a step in his direction. She was only wearing her nightgown, a short, white thing, and it was cold in the corridor, but she was now close enough to get warmed by his body heat. It seemed as if he really couldn't understand what she had meant, so she added, quite breathlessly: "I wish you'd do it again." Something flashed in his irises and he seemed to lose his balance for a second. He was astonished, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before, and somehow it increased her confidence. She smiled seductively. "I had no idea you could be rendered speechless, Black. I thought that was impossible." She moved closer, on her tiptoes, bit her lip – was this the best move to make? – and then decided to go for it. Excruciatingly slowly, she put her mouth on his, eyes closed, keeping still like that for a while. Then she started to kiss him, attempting to stay focused and show him what she could do, but quickly falling into the feeling of bliss that overcame her and forgetting all about her mission. He responded, first tentatively, then forcefully, and by instinct she brought up her hands to lay them around his face. At that, he pulled back, but only just a little. His forehead rested against hers and he sighed, agitatedly. "Gin…"

"I know," she said quickly, lowering her hands to his chest, looking pleadingly into the grey. The feeling of his hot skin underneath her fingers sent a warm glow through her body. "I know I'm not an expert at this, but you can teach me…"

A scoff, and before she could register it, his lips were on hers again, roughly, as if he wanted to prove something. It took her by surprise, and she only realized what was happening when he broke it off again. "Trust me, you don't need a teacher…" he said, and a dark glint flickered in his eyes. He shook his head. "But Gin… we can't… this isn't…" A frustrated snort and he distanced himself from her, half turning away.

Now was the time she had to confess everything. This was it. All or nothing. She stood up proudly, swallowing her doubt away. "I don't care. I don't care if this isn't real to you." She wasn't sure if it were the words that made him face her again or her sudden certainty, but it didn't matter. Somehow, she wasn't afraid of his reaction anymore. She was a Gryffindor, and cowardice had no place in her life. "I love you, and I've been loving you for years now, and I figured out that, even if you don't love me back, I want you. I want this fantasy, or illusion, or whatever you seem to think this is, even if it has to end when we get out of here." Saying it out loud was liberating. Now that she had, she could finally breath again.

He, on the other hand, seemed to have a hard time processing everything. He was silent, for a long, long time, then ran a hand through his tangled, dark curls. "I'm fucking twenty-one years older than you. I'm your boyfriend's godfather, and a convicted murderer – how can you…?" The sentence trailed off into a suggestive gesture, and he seemed to be unable to finish it.

How can you love me? Was that what he wanted to ask? And why did he know the exact number of years that divided them? Had he counted? Had he contemplated it, thought about morals and numbers and all that? Had he thought about it like she had? Calmly, she kept looking at him. "All that doesn't matter to me. The age difference doesn't scare me. Harry isn't my boyfriend anymore. And as for the murderer part, we both know you didn't do it."

He stood there, slumped shoulders, then said, almost inaudibly: "I have absolutely nothing to offer you."

That was one of the most painful things someone had ever said to her. She had always seen him as strong, as self-assured, a survivor. They both had their demons, but both knew that didn't define them. At least, that's what she had believed to be true. But maybe him being locked up in this wretched house so long had changed him more than she previously thought. "That's where you're wrong. I don't understand how such a confident man like you can think that."

Hesitation. Then, he seemed to be making a decision: "I don't understand what you see when you look at me."

Oh, Sirius… Please, no. Her heart ached from hearing such an abhorrent confession, and she wanted to take him in her arms to make it better, but she knew gestures alone wouldn't help. She was so glad he trusted her enough to tell her this, to once again show her his vulnerable side. With a frown, she stepped closer, reaching out her hand to carefully touch his face, resulting in him closing his eyes, tightly. "I see you," she whispered, then added, a bit louder: "The man who has always taken me seriously, even when no one else would. The man who would support me and my dreams to become a professional Chaser, even though it seemed like madness to other people. Sirius, really, do I need to say all these cheesy things to you to make you understand?" An incredulous shake of her head. He didn't respond, so she continued: "You make me laugh, you make me feel safe, you are the only one who seems to get me, seems to get how it felt, being possessed by You-Know-Who, how it haunts me. How it still influences me. You _know_ me. You know me like no one else does. And on top of that, you are incredibly handsome."

A small smile appeared on his face, waking up the little birds in her stomach. "So you really wanted to eat me, that day."

She smiled too, then laughed. "You don't know half how much." For a second, she let herself enjoy the twinkle in his eyes. Then, she grew serious again. "Look, Sirius, it's alright, I get it if you don't feel the same. I should be able to get over that. But you do need to know that you're a remarkable man, and that when the War is over, there will be a life for you. It's not over yet, Black. Not by far. And if I ever hear you say something like that again, I will fucking curse…-" A hushing finger on her lips prevented her from saying any more. She frowned, wondering why he cut her off, when out of the sudden he replaced his finger with his mouth, surprising her in a harsh, searing hot kiss. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she responded, still stunned, but more sure. His fingers clawed themselves in her red hair, as hers found their way up his chest, around his neck, embracing him, pulling him closer. Together, they stumbled backwards, until her back hit the wall. Undoubtedly, it was painful, but she couldn't care less, because this was exactly what she had longed for all these years. To have him, to hold him, to have him want _her_. The kiss grew more fervent, more urgent, and before long his tongue had entered her mouth, doing things to her she had never experienced before – that it could feel this good, this loving, this right… That her legs could be this weak, that she had to hold onto him so tight…

One of his hands had found its way underneath her nightgown, and she gasped at the feel of having him there, on her ass, touching a part of her almost no one had touched. It drove a burning rush through her core. The sound of her surprise had alarmed him, and he looked at her questionably, breaking the kiss. Almost immediately, she tangled her own fingers in his hair, pulling his face towards hers again, his lips back to hers, back to where they belonged. His hands travelled higher, grabbing her waist, pushing her small body into his. She felt his arousal, at her belly, quite evidently, and it elicited a moan from her. He groaned in response, then cupped her ass and unexpectedly heaved her up, as if she weighed no more than a feather, and started carrying her – towards where, she didn't notice, neither did she care. No more than a moment later, he had put her on the bed. His bed. She hadn't been in his room before, but frankly, all the curiosity she had for it seemed to have vanished into thin air. All her attention went to him, and right now, to shoving him away from her playfully. He seemed surprised, certainly not pleased, but as soon as she started to slowly take off her nightgown, first revealing the soft, white skin of her thighs, then the pale blue lace of her panties, then the slim smoothness of her belly and at last, the pert youthfulness of her small breasts, he didn't seem to mind anymore. On the contrary, he let out a frustrated grunt, then clawed his hand around the thin material of her panties, and in one swift movement, ripped them apart, discarding them on the floor. It was such a powerful act that she lost her balance, falling backwards on the mattress, her red locks splayed out around her. Her chest heaved in anticipation, her whole body tingled, and she was wetter than ever before. This was what she had wanted for years.

He seemed torn between wanting to jump her and getting rid of his own clothes, so he did both at the same time, more successfully than she had imagined to be possible. Soon enough, his mouth was on her nipple, causing her to moan and lean into him. Her breathing sped up as he created a pattern of feverish touches on the flesh of her breasts, and as his stubble scratched her, she had to grab onto him tighter. He was rough, occasionally biting her softly, but she didn't mind at all – no, fucking hell, she loved it. It drove her downright mad. Then, he travelled lower, unto her stomach, and lower, to the edge of her pussy hair. "Red…" she heard him mutter, followed by a sweet kiss on the inside of her thighs. She lost control of her breathing, and the familiar aching, longing feeling build up between her legs, although this time, the aching burned as she never had known it could. Another kiss, a little higher, and her hips bucked, involuntary, making him chuckle, a deep, raw sound that she loved to hear. She dug her nails into the mattress, as he grabbed onto her legs, pushing them down. Another kiss, another kiss, another one… So close to where she wanted them, but not close enough…

"Sirius, please…" she begged, her body squirming underneath him. She needed release, she needed it so bad, she needed it now. Never ever had she burned as strongly as this, never ever had she desired something so desperately. And suddenly, without a warning, his mouth was on her pussy, lightly, merely exploring. It sent shock waves through her body, and she whimpered, throwing her head back in pleasure, his name escaping her lips a few more times. That was when he really started to kiss her there, taste her, devour her – she moaned, she moaned again, louder and louder, and the sounds seemed to urge him on, as he got bolder, pressing deeper into her. Everything was on fire, her back arched, her heart was filled with ecstasy, with glowing freedom, she cried his name, over and over again, and then she was hit by a wave of pleasure, roaming through her whole body, making her shudder, making her scream…

She lay still, completely and perfectly happy, trying to hold onto the feeling, trying to not let it escape. However, he had other plans: his mouth crashed back on hers, and she tasted herself on him, something that was so arousing that she almost immediately came again. This was Sirius Black, and she had him. She fucking had him. Her bare skin tingled everywhere where his brushed hers, and she gasped as she felt his hard-on pressing onto her thigh. Instinctively, her legs spread out underneath him, granting him access. He didn't waste any time: the next moment, he had thrust into her, making her gasp again. He was large, and she was tight, and it felt strangely unfitting, but comfortable. He gave her zero seconds to adjust, already moving, first slowly, then more deeply and urgently, speeding up the pace. His hands grabbed unto her arms, pushing them flat against the mattress, while kissing her in her neck. Now she knew for sure, with his skin touching hers, their bodies entwined, pleasure building up again – she loved him, and she never wanted anyone else.

He came crying out her name, shooting his seed inside her, his muscles tensing, his eyes closed shut, and that sight was all she needed to come too, shuddering, shivering, quivering with pleasure. Somehow, it felt empty when he was out of her, but he resolved that by lying down next to her, pulling her close to him, his arms draped around her waist, lips lingering on her shoulder. They lay there, in the vivacious silence, so full of warmth that at first, there wasn't any space for thinking.

And when there was, the only thing that came to her mind was pure bliss. Pure bliss of being where she belonged. "What does this mean?" she asked courageously, after a while, even though she was afraid of the answer.

"It means I'm damned," he said, in such a cheerful tone it didn't suit the message.

She giggled. "Well, if that's what this is, I'm afraid I can't help but wanting you to stay damned."

"So do I, Gin. So do I."

* * *

 **So, this was one of my first attempts at writing smut. I'm not sure if I'm any good at it. I hope it was enjoyable. It's quite difficult for me to dive right in, you know, to let them kiss and have sex this soon because usually I want to write like a 1000 pages of establishing a realistic, deep bond first, but I don't have the time for that, so I needed to speed things up. Hope it doesn't seem rushed and hope it isn't (too) OOC. I actually think Sirius isn't the kind of man that would wait for ages (or would be able to wait for ages). Love, ThePossession.**


	9. Chapter 9

When she woke up, completely naked, sprawled out on his bed, there was soft, orange light peeking through the curtains, pointing out to her the one thing she had already felt: he wasn't there anymore. The mattress beside her was miserably empty. Breathing in deeply, she turned over, putting her hand in the space where she knew he had lain. It was still warm. He couldn't have been gone for long then. A smile graced her lips as she remembered the night before, how it had been to have him in her, to have him hold her and kiss her and do all those wonderful things he had done. She wanted him to do it again. She wanted him to do it again, now.

Slowly, she slid out from under the covers, immediately starting to shiver from the cold of the early morning greeting her, something that was easily resolved as she found his shirt lying in a heap on the floor, begging her to put it on. She complied, and satisfied, she left the room to find Sirius.

He turned out to be on the roof, watching the sun set behind the misty city, spreading its warm rays over rows and rows of Muggle houses. It wasn't a very clear morning, so she couldn't look far, but somehow it was still beautiful to see the light break through the thick, greyish clouds. He was sitting on the edge, wearing jeans and a warm sweater, a half-drunken cup of tea placed beside him. Oh, how handsome he was like this, his hair all tangled in an after-sex style, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows... She came to stand next to him.

"I don't think this is a situation in which you're able to sneak out before dawn and never see me again," she mused, sitting down by him, close enough to enjoy his body heat. It was December, and way too cold to be out here in nothing but a t-shirt.

He turned to look at her, and a small smile lit up his eyes. "I'm afraid my one-night-stand skills are a bit rusty after twelve years in Azkaban." She laughed – she'd been the only one who ever laughed at his jokes about his imprisonment. Others had always found them painfully tasteless, even when it came from no other than himself. "Don't worry. I couldn't sleep."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Couldn't sleep? Are you joking? After the greatest sex ever, you can't even sleep?"

That emitted a bark-like laugh from him and she was pleased to see that he didn't turn white at her words. He wasn't regretting it then. Thank god. "Perhaps _because_ of the greatest sex ever," he answered, something that pleased her greatly. At least they agreed on that. That should be a good sign. He noticed that she was shivering. Without hesitation, he put his arms around her, drawing her close. She revelled in the feeling of him embracing her, of the soft kiss on the back of her head, his nose in her hair… A few minutes had passed by when he sighed. "What are we doing, Gin?"

It was an honest question, full of hopelessness and uncertainty, and she looked up slowly, tenderly brushing a curly lock of that dark hair from his face. "You tell me," she said, softly.

He averted his gaze, only then realizing she was wearing his shirt, as his eyes filled with surprise at the sight. "I knew it wasn't a smart idea to put you here with me, alone. I was bound to screw it up."

Her mouth fell open as she watched him in shock. "Excuse me?" she said, putting her hand under his chin to force him to look up at her. "I was under the impression you never screwed anything up – you only screwed me, and I was completely happy to be screwed." It came out angrily, but at the memory of their night together, she softened, her heart rate suddenly speeding up. She inched closer to him, so she could taste his breath on her mouth, and added, in a sort of whisper: "You're incredibly good at screwing…" And there they were again: his lips on hers, timidly. Hers were cold, and his were warm, and the combination brought something eliciting to it. They kissed leisurely, taking their time, her hands clinging to his hair, his snaking around her waist, pulling her nearer to him. This. This was the only real way to begin the day.

Reluctantly, he broke it off, although not distancing himself from her. He shook his head, lightly, then let out a frustrated groan. "Why did you have to be this perfect?" he said, making her heart skip a beat. _Perfect_. What did he mean by that?

She looked up at him, brown eyes in his grey ones. "You and I both know I'm far from perfect, Sirius."

"You're wrong…" he whispered, followed by a sweet kiss on her jaw, then in her neck, then on her shoulder. Her head fell back in contentment, and she moaned as he gently bit her smooth flesh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, shifting so she was sitting in his lap, but he stopped, sending her a pleading, heartfelt look. "Gin, please don't do this to me… Please don't make me do this…" He sounded desperate, and she wondered if he'd ever said _please_ before.

"Why not? Don't you want to?"

Another frustrated groan, and it seemed as if he was going to kiss her again, only he retreated at the last moment. "Of course I fucking want to. There's nothing else in this world I want more than this."

She leaned in closer, innocently, knowing she almost had him. "Then what's the problem?"

His grey eyes were flooded with despair, and for a moment, she felt bad for forcing him to confront this. "Harry. James. Lily. I'd be betraying them all over again, taking you away from Harry. I have no right to do that, I've never done anything to deserve this – I can't betray Harry." As he said the last part, he had shoved her away, turning from her to run his hands through his hair.

It made her downright angry. He had never betrayed them, he had only ever tried to keep them safe, but no matter how often she told him, he would never take it as the truth. He was too loyal for his own good, the stubborn idiot! As for Harry, couldn't he see that she had never been meant to be with that boy? Yes, she had had a crush on him, but that had come forth of her being in awe of his fame, of the mystery and tragedy surrounding him, not out of knowing him. Sirius was the one she loved for who he truly was. Furiously, she crossed her arms, a fire blazing in her irises. "First of all, you have every right to do this and you've done plenty to deserve this. Second of all, I'm not someone's fucking property! Nobody owns me. I'm free to be with anyone I want, I never made Harry any promises! Besides, there are millions of other girls who will throw themselves at him once he's finished off You-Know-Who. Trust me, he won't shed a single tear over losing me." He had turned back to her throughout her fiery plea and she took the opportunity to grab his hands, to make clear that she was really there and she meant everything she'd said. "So yes, maybe you feel like you're betraying him when you kiss me, but frankly, he never really had me anyway. It's you, Sirius. It's always been you."

She had only just finished her sentence when she was yanked forwards, colliding with him in a passionate kiss, rolling over the roof together until he had her pinned underneath him, his knee between her legs, her back on the cold, hard concrete. His large frame towered over her, his dark curls shading her off from the rest of the world, as he stared at her intently, with blazing, jet-black eyes. "You're irresistible when you're mad, did you know that?"

No, she didn't, but she was too busy with pulling him down to her again to respond. Feeling bold, she pushed her tongue in his mouth, exploring, while at the same time trying not to moan too hard. The little birds in her stomach danced around triumphantly, and although she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in him, she decided that some things had to be said first, so she broke of what they were doing. "Wait," she said, breathlessly. "You have to promise me something." He groaned, frustrated, nuzzling her neck and biting it affectionately, but somehow she managed to not get distracted. She took his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Never ever do I want to hear you say again you don't deserve me. Because you do. You genuinely do. Believe me, I'm extremely lucky to have you."

He stared down at her, hesitatingly, then mumbled: "I want to believe that, Gin, I really do."

She smiled. "Then believe it," she whispered, bringing him down to him so she could put a sweet kiss on his cheek. "It's the truth…" And then, they were both gone, too lost in each other to care about where they were, or how cold it was, or what was going on in the rest of the world, or even in the streets below. It was different from last night, more sensual, less urgent. She thought he was trying to touch every part of her body, every freckle and every birth mark she possessed, and she moaned underneath his lips, back arching, head thrown back. But she wasn't going to let him take the lead this time. Somewhere, she somehow found the strength to straddle him, and flip them over, so it were now her fiery red locks that tumbled down around them. He seemed surprised by her move, but obviously didn't mind as his eyes hungrily roamed her naked body. She in turn, took the opportunity to marvel at his toned chest, and inspect and trace all the tattoos that were inked there. She wondered where he had gotten every last single one of them, while traveling lower and lower, revelling at the sounds of pleasure that slipped from his lips, knowing she was the one that caused them. Determined to return the favour from last night, she wanted to take him in his mouth, but he stopped her, with a harsh shake of his head. "No," he said. "No, I want to come inside you." Who was she not to oblige him? She was way too far in paradise to even consider resisting, so she let her hands glide across his skin, back up to his neck, while his snaked around her waist and pulled her down – and then he was in her again, and her body shuddered in pleasure. His fingers roamed down to her ass, while she placed kisses on his jaw, together searching for an easy, tender rhythm that suited them both. They found it quickly, and in between the moans, they whispered each other's names. He came first, and she followed rapidly. All cold and winter and grey morning sky were forgotten as she lay her head down on his chest.

"I love you, Sirius," she said, feeling like she had to repeat it, because maybe now he would understand.

"I must be dreaming," he said, but she could hear from the tone that he was smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

Ginny had never thought she would prefer Christmas at Grimmauld Place over Christmas at the Nest. But she did. The previous days had gone by in a haze of passionate love-making and lazy sex, and she had to agree with Sirius: she must have been dreaming all the time. They'd probably done it in most of the renovated rooms of the house: in front of the fireplace in the kitchen, in her bedroom, in the bathtub of the master bathroom, even once on the stairs… She was insatiable, but so was he – perhaps that was one of the reasons they were such a great couple. He would wake up in the middle of the night and just start kissing her, making it seem like she was indeed still caught up in a dream. They never slept apart anymore, barely left each other's company. Even though he had yet to express to her what she exactly meant to him, she continued to tell him that she loved him. To be honest, there wasn't a freckle in the whole of her face that doubted he felt the same. He was only too scarred or scared to admit it.

On Christmas morning, she had given him his present first: herself, dressed in the sexy lingerie she had bought years ago but had never found the right moment for to wear. It drove him wild, and it had resulted in the roughest sex they had ever had, and boy, had it been worth it. His present to her had been a lot more permanent: it had almost brought her to tears. He knew she had always been fascinated with his tattoos, and in the last few days she had repeatedly considered getting one herself, so he had sketched a design for her. She had gasped when she'd seen it, never having known he could draw this well. It was a phoenix, rising from its ashes in all its glory, in all red, orange and yellow feathers – or were they flames? It was beautiful, and perfect, and she let him ink it on the small of her back almost immediately. This was more evidence that he knew who she was, what she'd been through. But above all, it told her he was no longer afraid of laying a claim to her: it was after all something that would bind her to him forever, whether they'd be together or not.

That afternoon, Sirius was admiring her new tattoo from up close, as she lay naked and laughing in his bed. If you had said something about the war to her in that moment, she wouldn't even have understood what you were talking about, happy as she was. Their clothes were scattered around the floor, the curtains were half drawn. A few long, elegant candles bathed the room in a soft, orange glow, creating quite a romantic atmosphere, even though the walls were covered in banners of red and gold and posters of motorcycles and bikini-clad Muggle girls. It didn't exactly breath Christmas, but she loved it.

"I think I finally understand your obsession with my tattoos, Gin. Those things can be quite… distracting."

She giggled. "I know they can be." She flipped on her back, gazing up at him with pure adoration. "So tell me another one. The runes on your left side. What do they mean?"

He looked down at his own body, as if he didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Then, a smirk appeared on his handsome face. "This one? It says 'slugs and pumpkins'."

She burst out laughing, shaking in delight. "That's a joke, I hope."

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "That's what I've been hoping for the past twenty years. Alas, this is what you'd get when you went out drinking with James. I was going to let it get corrected, but then… well…" He trailed off, then suddenly sitting up straight, as if he'd remembered something important.

"What…-?"

He held up his hand to silence her. "There's someone downstairs."

That was when she heard it too. Footsteps. Footsteps and voices. Her heart started to beat loudly in her chest, and they exchanged worried glances. Who were here? And why? Supporters of Voldemort? Members of the Order? Nobody had been here in months, except for her parents when they came by with food and other supplies. After Dumbledore's death, nobody had been sure what had happened to the Fidelius Charm, so the Order had searched for a new Headquarter. After a thorough inspection from Moody, the house had been branded as safe again. But what if he had been wrong?

Sirius took his bathrobe from the peg on the wall and threw it in her direction, afterwards quickly wiggling himself in his jeans. After both were dressed, or at least not completely naked anymore, they went to the landing, wands raised before them. As they carefully descended the stairs, Ginny couldn't help but notice the glow of excitement on his face: he was enjoying this. Oh, that reckless man… She was going to have to learn quite a few more tricks in bed if she wanted him to stay safe in the house until the war was over. That was, if there weren't any Death Eaters waiting for them in the hall below.

Halfway down the last stairs, he beckoned her to come closer. The intruders were still in the hallway, quietly whispering together, as if they had heard them advancing. He raised his fingers in the air before her, soundlessly counting down from five to one. At one, the two of them stormed the last meters down the steps, both screaming an " _Expelliarmus_!" Flashes of light surrounded them, and amidst shocked yells and shrieks, they heard the clatter of wands falling to the floor.

"Merlin's beard!" A familiar voice said, quite shaken. "Sirius, Ginny, it's only us!"

It was her father. The trademark red Weasley hair seemed to have occupied the corridor: not only Arthur was standing there with his mouth open, Molly was there also, looking up at them disapprovingly, and next to her was Bill, who seemed to be rather amused by the situation. His new wife, Fleur, found it a lot less funny: on the contrary, she made the impression of wanting to strangle the two of them.

"What… what in the name of Merlin are you all doing here?" Ginny asked, suddenly realising she was standing in front of her parents in the middle of the day, merely clad in a bathrobe – or rather, Sirius' bathrobe. This Christmas might turn out to be a lot less perfect than she had hoped it would be.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, dear," Molly said, while her husband picked up all of their wands from the floor. "I couldn't handle the thought of my daughter being all alone in this house on Christmas Eve – I mean without family, Sirius, you know. We thought you'd be glad."

Yes, glad she was, now the first shock had worn away. She smiled, then went to throw herself in her mother's arms, but Sirius stopped her, pulling her back by her waist. "Wait," he said, and somewhere she was conscious that it might look suspicious that they were standing so close to each other and seemed comfortable in doing so. "They might be impostors."

"Sirius is right, Ginny," Bill said, inspecting the pair curiously, as if he had exactly noticed the one thing she'd been afraid of they would see. "You should be more careful. This could be a trap."

"Alright, alright…" she sighed, giving in, even though she wanted to roll her eyes. Why would four Death Eaters come to visit them on Christmas Day posting as family members? She was aware there wasn't any point in arguing though. "Bill, what did I ask you for a present on my seventh birthday?"

Bill smirked. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He himself had been eighteen at the time, and had found her request quite hilarious. "You wanted me to marry you and when I said we couldn't, you wouldn't speak for a week."

"It had never been as quiet around the house as then," added Arthur, before they all burst out into laughter. Even Fleur seemed to find the story funny. Ginny recalled that moment as if it had happened yesterday: she'd been fed up with all of her siblings teasing her and being mean to her. Her oldest brother, Bill, had been the only one who always treated her nicely, and as he was bound to move out quickly, she figured if he'd marry her, she could go with him.

Sirius leaned closer to her, to whisper something in her ear: "Your determination is admirable. Haven't changed much since then, have you?"

She giggled, playfully slapping him on his chest, which didn't seem that strange to her, but elicited a frown from her brother. She didn't notice though, a she was currently busy hugging her mother and father, telling them how much she had missed them. Because she _had_ missed them, even though she was perfectly happy at being alone with Sirius all the time.

"Sweetie, what on earth are you wearing?" Molly asked, as she held her daughter in front of her, examining the robe. And that, was exactly what she'd been afraid of. Sneakily, she exchanged a sideways glance with Sirius, who had a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he was rather enjoying this. He probably was – and she had to confess, she was too.

"Sirius' bathrobe, mum," she answered innocently. "I was naked when we heard you stumbling around."

The looks on her parents' faces were precious and she had to stifle a giggle. "Ginevra Weasley!" her mother gasped, utterly outraged. "You don't mean… you haven't…" Molly's gaze swept to Sirius' bare chest, and she put her hands in her side. "Sirius Black, you tell me right now why you aren't wearing a shirt!"

Ginny tried to feign indignation, mirroring her mother's position. "Mum, for Merlin's sake, no! How could you think such a thing?" she played, attempting to contain her laughter. "He had just gotten out of the shower and I was about to hop in! We had a snowball fight on the roof and both of us were soaked, so we needed to warm up."

Molly and Arthur sighed in relief, but Sirius himself seemed offended: "Oh come now, Molly, Arthur… If I were you I'd be delighted to have me for a son-in-law!" He grinned impishly, something that made him look ten years younger, and deliberately put his arm around Ginny's shoulders, brutally jerking her close. "Ginevra Black does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

She wanted to laugh and kiss him, because _indeed_ did that sound wonderfully perfect, even though he would never let her take his surname. She realised though, that her parents would immediately take her home if she would, so instead of that, she pushed him away. "In your dreams, Black," she said smiling, adding a wink for dramatics. As she walked away, swaying hips and all, to the kitchen, she heard him fake a wounded cry, causing the rest of them to laugh.

" _Dieu merci_!" said Fleur, still giggling, "A child from the two of them would have an overdose of arrogance, it would just explode!"

"Look who's talking…" Ginny muttered, while Sirius and her started to prepare drinks for the whole company, working like an oiled machine. He grumbled something in agreement, but couldn't seem to hide the brooding expression that had taken place on his face. For a second, she wondered if she'd hurt him by not telling her parents the truth, but the next she was caught up in the happiness of having part of her family with her at Christmas, and forgot about it.

The unfortunate thing for her was, that one certain red-headed brother, did not.


	11. Chapter 11

"He looks cheerful."

"He's always cheerful when there are people around."

"It's different."

Ginny shrugged, trying to make it seem like she couldn't care less. "If you say so." She and Bill were sitting by the fire, both with a bottle of Butterbeer in their hands. It was deep in the night, and Molly and Fleur were cleaning up the remains of their improvised Christmas dinner, while Arthur and Sirius were having an animated conversation at the kitchen table, heads close together, occasionally laughing hard or nodding enthusiastically. Bill had been watching them for a while – or perhaps it was more along the lines of an inspection. It made Ginny nervous. After all, her brother wasn't an idiot.

In the beginning of the evening, after certain people had changed into more appropriate clothes and hurriedly covered up the signs of sex where there shouldn't have been signs of sex, Molly had continuously commented on how she missed her daughter and how she hoped they were taking good care of themselves. Ginny had quickly stopped her though, as even though she loved her mother a lot, she had been far more interested in what was happening out in the real world – and she knew she wasn't the only one. Unfortunately, Molly's overprotectiveness for her youngest child hadn't diminished in the past few months, and it took a lot of "mum-I'm-seventeen-I'm-an-adult" and "I-can-handle-it" before she even started to consider letting her stay to hear everything. Only when Sirius had said: "Come on Molly, you know there's no point in sending her away. I'll just tell her everything you've said the minute you're all gone," she finally agreed to Ginny listening too. Somehow it had made her uncomfortable: here she was, with a secret lover that had to convince her mother she was old enough. The fact that Molly and Sirius had never gotten along, and that this conflict didn't exactly improve their relationship, was another thing to worry about. But right now, she had to focus on Bill and his sharp observations.

He was watching Sirius with narrowed eyes, his head resting lazily on his fist. In the burning firelight the scars on his face made him look terrifying. "It's like he's really happy," he said thoughtfully. "Even though he's here."

Ginny took an extra large sip of her beer, trying not to shift uncomfortably in her chair. It wasn't that obvious, was it? Had she really had such an effect on the man? Did it actually show? "Why wouldn't he be? It's Christmas, and we have visitors. It'd even make a Dementor happy."

Bill shook his head, slowly. "It's not like that. We've been here before, in the time when this was the Headquarter of the Order. Company always cheered him up, but it's never made him _happy_."

"Are you suddenly a Sirius-expert?" she snapped, immediately realising that it was a big mistake. She tried to act casual, but by the looks of the slow-building smirk on her brother's face, she wasn't succeeding.

"No. But I'm a Ginny-expert."

"Bill, you're not making any sense."

"It's fairly obvious to me."

"What's fairly obvious?"

He huffed, seemingly amused by her performance. "Sis, you have bite marks in your neck." She wanted to defend herself, tell him some lie about Doxy fangs, but he cut her off before she could even begin: "No point in making excuses. I have enough werewolf in me to know what they look like."

Consciously, she put her hand around her neck, mentally cursing Sirius and his need to… mark his territory. Stupid dog-habits. Provocatively, she raised her eyebrows. "Well… It was a very wild snowball fight."

He snickered, shoulders shaking from joy. "I can imagine. But really, a snowball fight? Did you actually think I was going to fall for that?"

"One can always hope…"

Suddenly, the laughter slipped of his face, and a frown took its place. "You do know what you're doing, right? It isn't…?" He trailed of, ending the sentence with a suggestive wave of his hand.

Immediately, she sat up, fiery hair flying alongside her. "Of course not!" she said quite angrily, apparently in such a loud voice that the other people in the room threw her a quick glance before continuing their activities. Of course she knew what she was doing – she had been fantasising about it for years now. It was what she wanted. She averted her gaze to her lap, then added, softly: "I love him."

Bill sighed, and she wished with all her might he wasn't going to lecture her on how she was too young to say things like that and that all of this was very wrong. But: "I know you do." She looked up, frowning, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. He was amused by her behaviour. "You don't fool me, Ginny. I've kept an eye on you ever since you were born."

She narrowed her eyes. "So? Are you going to give me some sort of speech?"

He huffed, taking a sip of his drink. "You won't listen to me anyway. I wasted my chances on influencing you when I turned down your marriage proposal."

Relieved, she slumped back in her chair, leaning her head against the cushions. "Your loss. I'm quite a catch."

"He knows that."

That sparked something in her. Hope. She found herself beginning to enjoy this conversation. "A bit too well, I'm afraid." Yes. He might know her worth, he didn't recognize his own. But she was working on that.

Bill nodded, seemingly deep in thought. Then: "Mum and dad aren't going to like this."

"I know."

"Ron and Harry won't be pleased either."

"I know."

"He's twice your age."

"I know."

"He's never been given the time to grow up, Ginny. He's damaged goods."

"I know. That's where he and I are similar."

Her brother looked up, frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

She smiled faintly. Bill might have thought he'd been watching her closely, but he hadn't been there when she'd been tricked by Riddle's diary, had like everyone else never considered what effect it might have had on her – everyone else, but Sirius. When she'd told him, he had instantly understood. "See? He's never asked that. Never had to. He knows." A silence spread out between them, and for the first time in the conversation, she was getting nervous about how he might react. "You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

Luckily, Bill only shook his head, slowly. "I don't see the point in ruining one of the only good things in both your lives."

She didn't either. "Thank you."

He grimaced. "Don't thank me yet. When this war's over, you better be ready to face some seriously angry parents." Unexpectedly, he started laughing, shaking shoulders and all.

"That's funny to you?" she asked annoyed, because if there was anything that wasn't hilarious at all, it would be the day she'd tell her mother and father about the man she loved.

He made a vague gesture. "It's just 'seriously'. I can't take that serious anymore."

A large smirk took its place on her glowing face. "Thank Merlin. That's my job."

Bill choked on his Butterbeer, causing Ginny to break into a fit of giggles. By instinct, she turned to look at the table, still laughing, and caught the gaze of a certain amused wizard, with the most wonderful grey eyes she'd ever seen. Which, she suddenly noticed, hadn't looked lost and haunted in weeks. Maybe, they'd set each other free. Maybe, two angry parents and disgusted family members would be more than worth it.

Maybe.

She knew that wasn't the right word. It was definitely.

Definitely worth it.


	12. Chapter 12

That night, Sirius had sneaked into her room, slipping under the covers to lay beside her, arms around her delicate frame. She had wanted to be angry about his carelessness, to send him away, but his presence had been far too soothing and before long, she'd finally been able to fall asleep, a small smile on her face. In the morning, she was woken by an annoyingly loud voice: "Ginny! Wake up, dear, we'll be going soon! Ginny?"

Realising it was her mother, she shot up straight, heart beating in her chest. Oh god, if she would see Sirius lying there… – but there was no Sirius. Apart from herself, the bed was empty. He'd probably left her room early, knowing the risk was too large. That was new. Maybe he was reckless, but it seemed he wasn't stupid. He'd known it would've never ended well if they'd been found out right now. Relieved, Ginny released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding, and mumbled a quick reply to her mother. Yes, she was glad to have seen her family this Christmas, however, she'd be glad when they were all gone again.

The goodbye had been hasty and wistful, full of promises that were going to be broken anyway. _Stay safe. I'll see you soon. Don't do anything you shouldn't be doing_. When the door finally closed behind them, Ginny sighed, instantly walking up to Sirius so she could stand in his embrace. He placed a sweet kiss on her temple, wrapping his arms around her. They stayed like that for a while, until she softly said: "You know we couldn't tell them. Not now. They would've taken me away."

"We'll tell when the war's over," he said, sounding incredibly determined.

She smiled. "Yes. When the war's over." The way he'd said it, like it was inevitable, made her grow warm inside, and flashes of ordinary life with him flashed before her eyes. "Bill knows, though."

He stiffened. "Yes. I'd figured he did."

Laughing, she looked up at him, in those beautiful, grey eyes. "What did he do?"

A small huff. "You don't want to know."


	13. Chapter 13

Life was fine, as far as it could be fine in times of war, but it was an incredibly precarious sort of 'fine'. Ginny mostly tried to keep him occupied, not merely to distract him, but also to distract herself. She was good at it, especially if it involved her being naked. Days went by and the two of them lost track of time again, only vaguely realising that the new year had come around the corner, bringing more snow and cold. Some days, Ginny felt slightly guilty for being here enjoying herself, while others were out there fearing for their lives. She knew she wasn't the only one who had thoughts as these. However, she was aware that as soon as she'd confess this to Sirius, he would be making plans for the two of them to leave the house and be of service to the Order. And as long as You-Know-Who was going to pretend Sirius was one of his, he would be double-unsafe. No, it was more sensible for them to stay inside.

One exceptionally cold January morning, as Ginny was sitting by the hearth folding laundry, she suddenly noticed something warm touching her leg. For a second, she stiffened, but then she realised what had caused it. Hastily, she put her hand in her pocket, taking out the golden Galleon Hermione had given her more than two years ago, the one that had informed her of every single Dumbledore's Army meeting that had taken place. She gasped when she saw the numbers on the edge had transformed into a message. _Join rebellion in RoR. Hogshead 16/1 05:00. NL._ NL. Neville Longbottom. Neville was still alive! A shaky laugh escaped her mouth. They were fighting! They had taken refuge in the Room of Requirement and were asking for reinforcements!

With a fire raging through her body, she leapt up from the couch, intending to run up to Sirius and tell him what she'd discovered. Before she had taken a step though, she sat down again. She couldn't let him know this. He would undoubtedly want her to go, to join Neville and be of use, and he'd stay here, all alone, probably drinking himself to death. And as much as she longed to take up arms and help the DA to protect the school against You-Know-Who's terror, she couldn't do it without him by her side. She would be worried sick all the time. Sighing, she stared at the coin, debating what to do with it.

Out of nowhere, two arms wrapped itself around her from behind – she let out a yelp of surprise. Sirius chuckled, a low, rich sound that usually made her melt inside, and planted a kiss on top of her head. "Guilty conscious, Gin?" he asked, then striding around the couch to come sit next to her. His confidence had started to grow in the last few months, and although she was never going to admit it, it looked rather good on him. "What's this? Going shopping?"

She closed her fist around the coin, then glanced up to him. There was the sparkle she loved, right in front of her, in those always changing grey eyes. With a gloomy smile, she brought up her free hand to gently brush a long, dark curl out of his face. "Merely wondering when we'll be able to go to the store again."

To her surprise, he grinned. "Oh, now I know why you want to be with me. Black family riches. I knew it couldn't only be my good looks." She smiled, but it faltered quickly. "What's wrong? Worried it won't last long? You don't have to. Blacks tend to age well."

She studied his face: the laughter wrinkles, the tiny scar that you could only find if you knew were to look, cleverly hidden under his stubble, and her favourite part of him, his eyes. For a man, he had quite the long lashes. The most annoying aspect of him bragging about his good looks was that he actually was really handsome. Only now realising what he had said, her smile returned quickly, genuine this time. No, he was never going to know about the coin. Especially not if he had been talking about their future, even though it was indirectly. "I'll have to take your word for it," she said, looking up at him innocently. "After all, you've never introduced me to your mother. How would I know you're telling the truth?"

He lent into her, tenderly cupping her head in his hands. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and see, love."

She responded with a sweet, longing kiss. Now _that_ was a fine idea.

The coin she had held in her fist fell out of her hand and rolled over the floor, vanishing under the armchair, where it lay forgotten. If only she would've remembered to pick it up again…


End file.
